said that all eyes were focused on the dozen or twenty talented people in the front row, waiting for them to dedicate good poems.

It's just that under the spotlight of everyone, the more than 20 Jinling talents who are usually confident and arrogant have shrunk a little.

Chongwang's words gave them great pressure, who can guarantee that their poems will be passed on to the world?

They are very eager to show their talents tonight, not only to make a name for themselves, but also to win the favor of Princess Wenren or Lord Huaizhu.

However, there has to be someone to start being cannon fodder.

After a period of silence, suddenly a crisp and pleasant voice sounded, like a yellow warbler out of the valley.

"Ji Yongning, I heard that you made a poem in four steps, and the poem you made moved Shen Lao on the spot. Haven't you written your poem yet? ”

As the crisp and melodious voice sounded, everyone couldn't help but look along the sound.

It's a pity that everyone can't see the owner of the voice at all, and can only see two candlelight silhouettes through the tulle screen embroidered with a few golden phoenixes with gold wire.

It turned out that although Zhao Yuanrong and Zhao Yuanxuan entered the poetry meeting venue under a veil, after taking their seats, a screen was blocked in front by the maid of the Chongwang Mansion.

They can see people through the screen, but others can only see their two charming, candlelit silhouettes.

Since the beginning of the Mid-Autumn Festival Poetry Meeting, Zhao Yuanrong and Zhao Yuanxuan have only listened and not spoke.

Now Zhao Yuanxuan finally couldn't help but speak, and immediately attracted countless eyes of burning anticipation.

Just the voice is so beautiful, if it is a natural sound, the appearance must be overwhelming, worthy of the pride of the royal sky!

When all the talented people eagerly looked at the candlelight silhouette in the screen, they all cried out excitedly in their hearts.

When Ji Ning heard that he didn't know whether it was the princess or the county lord who spoke and came directly at him, his eyebrows couldn't help but froze.

It's not because of the other party's words, but because the other party's voice seems to have been heard somewhere.

"Huaizhu, don't be rude." At this time, King Chong spoke up.

Everyone suddenly realized that it was the county lord of Huaizhu who spoke.

And with King Chong's criticism, all the talented people immediately came back to their senses and were pleasantly surprised to realize that the county lord of Huaizhu seemed to hate targeting Ji Ning.

"Ji Ning, did you hear it, the county bishop, you offer your poems!" Wu Bei next to him immediately shouted, "Don't let down the position you are sitting in now!" ”

slapped Ji Ning in public, but he couldn't hit back immediately, he hated Ji Ning to the core.

Qin Feng also turned to Ji Ning and said, "Brother Ji, in the past, Ji University was a talented scholar and a famous man in the world. You are the son of a scholar of Ji, presumably the tiger father has no dogs, and you are also a talented eight buckets. Please also ask Brother Ji not to be modest anymore, let me wait to see your masterpiece and learn to learn. ”

Qin Feng and Wu Bei spoke, and other talents also spoke one after another to squeeze Ji Ning.

Ji Ning smiled indifferently, stood up, bowed to King Chong and Lord Huaizhu respectively, and then said calmly: "Lord Wang, Lord County, I'm afraid the students have disappointed you." The students have not yet been able to compose a single poem or lyric. ”

As soon as these words came out, the entire poetry meeting venue couldn't help but be in a commotion.

In the Great Yong Dynasty, even if you are not a showman, as long as you have read a few years of books, you can write poems at worst.

Chongwang is generous, and the proposition of writing poetry does not find another way, and directly uses the Mid-Autumn Festival as the proposition of poetry, which can be said to be the most difficult proposition.

Moreover, it has been more than half an hour since the beginning of the poetry meeting.

That is, if there is no ink on the chest, it is time to hold back a poem.

For a while, everyone talked about it.

Those talented people sitting in the back laughed even more unscrupulously, and even heard some people directly despise Ji Ning for deceiving the world, stealing fame, not learning, and so on.

On the other side of the screen, Li Xiu'er was so anxious that she grabbed Su Pujia's jade hand, and said anxiously: "Sister Pujia, you can help him quickly!" ”

"There's no hurry." Su Pujia looked very calm and said, "Listening to his tone, calm and calm, I guess he must have something else to say." ”

When Zhao Yuanxuan heard this, he couldn't help but be stunned for a moment.

She targeted Ji Ning, but she was not as skeptical about Ji Ning's talent as she was at the beginning.

In fact, Ji Ning's two questions had already convinced her most, but she was so arrogant that she refused to admit it in her heart.

Now, when she suddenly heard Ji Ning say that he failed to make a poem, she was shocked and surprised and couldn't believe it.

King Chong, who was sitting on the throne, couldn't help but sigh for a moment.

It's just that the next moment he found that Ji Ning's expression was calm and calm, without the slightest shame, and he expected that there must be something to follow.

However, before he could ask, Wu Bei had already burst out laughing.

"Ji Ning, you dare to deceive the prince in front of everyone?!" Wu Bei stood up, pointed at Ji Ning and shouted, "There is a poem clearly written on your desk!" ”

When everyone heard this, they began to talk about it even more, and the audience was noisy.

Qin Feng also stood up and said to Ji Ning: "Brother Ji, this is your mistake. At the poetry meeting, no one guarantees that their poems will be the first. Whether the poem is good or bad, take it out, and the emphasis is on participation. Brother Ji, listen to the advice of the younger brother and offer your poems. The prince is magnanimous and will not blame you. ”

Ji Ning glanced at Qin Feng lightly, compared to Wu Bei, he hated Qin Feng's pretentious hypocrite even more.

"Of course the prince won't blame." Ji Ning said lightly, "Ji is just thinking about you." Ji is worried that as soon as this poem comes out, the poem you made after thinking hard tonight can only be thrown into the garbage basket. ”

Ji Ning's voice was not loud, but it happened to be heard by everyone.

For a moment, the noise of the audience fell silent.

"Hahahaha......" Wu Bei burst out laughing, as if he had heard the best joke in the world, "Ji Ning, I don't know if you are arrogant or ignorant. Brother Bo Yan is the leader of Lianzhong Eryuan, Xie Yuan, and the first talent of the young generation recognized in Jinling City. You are just a shadow attacker, you dare to say such crazy things to Brother Boyan, aren't you afraid of laughing and losing your big teeth? ”

Ji Ning turned his gaze to Wu Bei and said lightly: "If Ji Mou were you, it would be better to release your poems earlier." ”

"Brother Ji, although Qin is not talented, he still has some self-confidence." Qin Feng didn't seem to be angry at all, and said to Ji Ning like a gentle and gentle gentleman, "Please announce your masterpiece first." ”

Ji Ning no longer paid attention to Qin Feng, turned around, and said to King Chong: "Lord Wang, the student really didn't make poems. Because last night, the students fell asleep with tonight's poems in their hearts, but they dreamed of a poem about the Mid-Autumn Festival in their dreams. When the student woke up, the poem seemed to be seared into the student's mind. With that poem, the students really couldn't write any poems about the Mid-Autumn Festival. ”

Originally, he didn't want to participate in the Mid-Autumn Festival poetry meeting in Chongwang's Mansion just to hide himself, but now he was forced to participate. And at the Mid-Autumn Festival Poetry Meeting, it was impossible for him not to write a single poem.

So, he came up with a solution, which was to pretend to dream of a poem.

In this way, the poem can be said to have been written by him, or it can be said that it was not written by him.

As the saying goes, there are thoughts and dreams every day, and it is not very surprising to write poems in dreams. Some poets have had this experience.

……

Oiran Dabi.

Liu Ru sat a little lazily in the bronze mirror, letting her maid help her make up and comb her hair.

She had already gone up to perform twice, and once again, and this year's Oiran Dabi was over for her. As for what the result was, she didn't care at all.

"Xiaojuan, why hasn't the second batch of good poems been passed out of the Mid-Autumn Festival Poetry Festival in Chongwangfu?" Liu Ru asked a little lazily.

When Xiaojuan heard this, her face couldn't help but show a little helplessness. On this Qinhuai River, I don't know how many girls will do whatever it takes to fight for the Oiran, but her young lady is good, she doesn't have to do a good job in the performance of the final Oiran, but pays attention to the Mid-Autumn Festival Poetry Club of the Chongwang Mansion that has no relationship with them.

However, she still replied: "Miss, good poetry is not a man on the street, you can have as many as you want." Wait patiently. ”

As soon as she finished speaking, there was a knock at the door.

When Liu Ru heard the knock on the door, she was suddenly shocked and sat up straight: "The second batch of poems is here!" Xiaojuan, go open the door. ”

"Nonono." Xiao Juan said weakly, turned around and walked to open the door.

Sure enough, it was Xiaoyu who came in.

She presented the paper with the poems copied on it to Liu Rushi.

Liu Ru took the poem and couldn't help but ask in surprise: "Why is it just a poem?" ”

"Miss Huiliu, I heard from the person who spread the news that this is the last word tonight." Xiaoyu saluted and said, "Because this poem has written all the Mid-Autumn Festival poems." Will anyone dare to write poems in the Mid-Autumn Festival poems of Chongwangfu? ”

"Ahh Liu Ru couldn't help but scream in shock, and immediately looked down at the poem.

After a long time, she raised her beautiful face and muttered, "This word should only be in heaven!" From now on, there will be no Mid-Autumn Festival poems......"